


you: all mine

by hanniebeon



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 19:32:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6821218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanniebeon/pseuds/hanniebeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeonghan doesn’t even remember what they’re arguing about anymore – all he can feel is the frigid wind against his face as Seungcheol throws him over his shoulder and parades out the door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you: all mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jeonghaned](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeonghaned/gifts).



> warning for a lot of swearing because (i've definitely mentioned this before but once again) jeonghan in my head is this crass, beautiful man who just doesn't care.  
> for gwyn bc she cute :P

All he was aware of was that the argument had stemmed from completely nothing. Try as he might, Jeonghan simply can’t remember why they had started arguing, raised voices and clenched fists, exhausted sighs and frustration.

 

He hates it, hates it so much. He hates that he doesn’t think sometimes before he runs his mouth, and then everything he doesn’t want said just comes pouring out. Jeonghan abhors the feeling of someone being mad at him, someone not understanding his point of view (as terribly selfish as that sounds). And he detests the fact that he fights back even when he knows he might be wrong.

 

“If you can’t respect what’s mine,” Jeonghan can barely register that it’s his mouth forming the words, “you can take whatever’s yours and the get the fuck out of here.” He points vehemently towards the door.

 

He can almost hear his own breathing, deep pants from exhaustion because what he really wants to do is jump into Seungcheol’s arms and forget about whatever the fuck they were fighting about. He just doesn’t care anymore.

 

But being the stubborn ass he is, Jeonghan stands his ground. Then his stupid, stupid boyfriend who won’t let him win these goddamn battles is walking towards him; with every step Seungcheol takes his own heartbeat races anxiously.

 

Jeonghan isn’t sure what’s happening, but then Seungcheol’s leaning down – “what the heck, are you trying to give me a blowjob or some shit?” – and he’s thrown over a shoulder and paraded out into the cold, fucking freezing winter air.

 

Never mind all the crap about jumping into Seungcheol’s arms. He wants to kill Choi Seungcheol for being a shitty boyfriend and being very very confusing.

 

“What the heck are you doing? Let me down!” All his flailing doesn’t work, obviously, because Seungcheol has muscles (honestly, Jeonghan lives for those guns) and is extremely persistent.

 

“You told me to take what’s mine and leave. So I’m taking you.” Jeonghan looks resolutely down at the floor -  no sane man is going to be around at this time of night, but damn if anyone comes out to taken a drunken midnight piss and sees the blush scattered high across his cheeks. Not a fucking chance.

 

Jeonghan clears his throat.

 

“It’s freezing.”

 

“I know.” Seungcheol says.

 

“Then why don’t you put me down so both of us can go back in, be warm, and snuggle on the sofa or something.”

 

“Later. But for now, I want to hear you say you’re mine.” Jeonghan’s breath stops in his throat. He looks to the tiled flooring of the hallway as if that will help him. It doesn’t, because the quiet indicates Seungcheol is still waiting for an answer.

 

“It’s seriously cold. And I’m wearing boxers, you twat.” Giving in is not in Jeonghan’s vocabulary.

 

“My boxers.” Seungcheol points out. Damn him.

 

Jeonghan sighs.

 

“Just let me down.” As he says this, Seungcheol’s grip around his waist becomes impossibly tighter.

 

“Not until you say you’re mine.” The flush that had temporarily disappeared because of the freezing cold suddenly makes its return – Jeonghan’s cheeks feel like warm packs.

 

The silence that ebbs between them is anticipatory (mostly on Seungcheol’s half) and reluctant (all Jeonghan); it takes the long-haired male a boost of courage. Then he’s pushing himself off Seungcheol’s shoulders, feet planted firmly on the ground as he leans in and presses his lips gently against his boyfriend’s, a sweet, chaste kiss.

 

“You know I’m yours.” Forehead against Seungcheol’s, he takes in the other male’s long eyelashes fluttering gently, the barely noticeable bob of his Adam’s apple, plush lips caught parted in a gasp.

 

“I love you.” He whispers, pressing into Seungcheol for another kiss.

 

His efforts are reciprocated twice as strong, his boyfriend eagerly returning the kiss. When they part, the steam from their breaths rises ivy into the cold, still air. Seungcheol whispers _“I love you”s_ reverently, over and over again until all Jeonghan can see is him, and really, that’s the view he wants to look at for the rest of his life. It’s adorable (as Seungcheol usually is), and Jeonghan presses another light kiss on his boyfriend’s lips (reward for being the greatest boyfriend ever) before he puffs a hot breath into Seungcheol’s face.

 

“Let’s go in, I’m freezing my ass off.”

 

Then Seungcheol places a firm arm around his waist, steering them both back into the apartment, and even if Jeonghan doesn’t say it out loud, he’s sending (telepathic) messages, a mantra of _“I’m all yours”._


End file.
